The Beasts Have Claws
by Blazebeard1993
Summary: Lyssia and Lycaeos Ilworth, noble twins of Gilneas, try to keep their country safe. But when the threat of beasts and the undead breach the great Greymane Wall, their world is turned inside out. The Cataclysm has come... and Gilneas can hide behind walls no longer.
1. Introduction

They had been inseparable as children. Not that they had had much choice, they were twins. Their parents had loved that about them and made them do everything together. Despite some thinking this would make them get tired of each other, they only grew closer. They had their differences to be sure, but they respected that about each other. Growing up privileged had been an advantage, their parents were very wealthy nobles in Gilneas City, and it afforded them the education and training that shaped them into who they would be.

Lyssia and Lycaeos Ilworth. Soldier and spy. Loud and quiet. Fierce and cunning. They complimented each other in a way, making up for the other's weaknesses. Lyssia was younger by about two minutes, but she was the strong one. Lycaeos had been a late bloomer, so he was picked on quite a bit by the other children they were forced to play with when their parents had their get-togethers. Lyssia made sure no one hurt her big brother without paying for it.

As they got older, Lyssia grew stronger, but Lycaeos became craftier. Always finding the odd solutions, seeing things where others saw nothing. He grew more confident with time, their personalities clashing whenever they felt like having a good verbal spar. They split off from each other when they discovered their talents, but they remained ever close to each other.

Lyssia joined the Gilnean Crownguard, quickly rising through the ranks until she became one of the personal bodyguards to Prince Liam Greymane himself. Her parents were ecstatic, and her brother liked to brag that his sister was "in good with the royalty", and how he had a "get-out-of-jail-free card". The younger Ilworth was immensely proud of her work. She took her job very seriously and had thwarted several misguided attempts on the Prince's life.

Lycaeos, similarly, joined a branch of the Gilnean Armed Forces, though he was rarely allowed to speak of it. The Crown's Shadow was a secretive organization, dedicated to protecting Gilneas and its rulers from all shadowy and otherwise underhanded attempts to dismantle the kingdom. He had been asked to join when he was still a teenager, and spent most of his formative years learning the roguish trades. His sister knew of course, but he decided not to tell the Lord and Lady Ilworth what his true occupation was.

Their parents' deaths had been unremarkable. It was not an Orcish raid like those outside the wall dealt with, it was not the Scourge and certainly not whatever the "Worgen curse" was. It did not even come at the hands of the Northgate Rebellion. An infestation and invasion of giant venomous spiders had spread in the countryside while Lord and Lady Ilworth had been traveling… they were unlucky enough to cross paths. While their estate was inherited equally by their son and daughter, it brought Lyssia and Lycaeos little comfort. They continued with their duties despite their newfound wealth, it had never been about the money to begin with.

From that day forward, their view of the world grew that much greyer.

Gilneas was a nation built on wobbling supports. Even with the druidism that allowed them to at least feed their people and the Greymane Wall that kept out some of the worse threats to humanity, life in Gilneas was not easy anymore. The Northgate Rebellion was only a taste of the population's growing unrest with their kingdom. Both of the Ilworth children saw the restlessness in the eyes of the populace. They themselves sometimes wished to see the outside world.

But they trusted the wisdom and judgment of their King Greymane. He was not perfect, but there was honor in his admittance of that fact. He cared for his nation, his people, but one man can only do so much.

First the earthquakes started, and soon after that the Worgen followed. Lyssia and Lycaeos leapt to the defense of their nation in their own ways.

They did not know how much was about to change. There was no way they could have known.

The Cataclysm had only just begun, and the world they knew was about to be turned to ash.


	2. Chapter 1

It was raining of course, it always rained in Gilneas. We could scarcely go two days without rain anymore. The softer part of me liked to imagine it was reflection of how Gilneas' people felt. I saw it everywhere I looked. The citizens didn't hate the nobility per se; they just had other things on their mind. Like how they were going to survive the next day's earthquake or whether or not today would be the day the worgen ran rampant in the city.

The worgen… I had seen them. Fought them, too. They never surrendered; I don't believe they have the capacity to. They walk on two legs like men, but run on all fours like wolves. They tear asunder anything they can get their claws on. I had broken the nose of one with a shield bash, and still it rushed me in a blind rage. I had seen one with its appendages all restrained still lash out biting at anything that got too close.

Gilneas had changed. My job had changed with it. We used to be a bastion of what it meant to be human on Azeroth. We were proud, strong, industrious, wealthy, and we knew who we were. That all changed with the earthquakes, and the worgen that followed.

As I stared out the window of the barracks, I thought of my brother, Lycaeos. He was out there somewhere, keeping the peace from the shadows. He would be okay, that much I was still certain of. He threw himself into his work after our parents passed. I said a silent prayer to whatever shadows held him to keep him safe.

"Lyssia!" A familiar voice roused me from my praying, "Guard change. No more daydreaming!" Sergeant Cleese, my direct superior. Sergeant was a cover title, since he was one of the leaders of Gilneas' Crownguard. He liked to pretend he had no feelings, but the softie wasn't very good at pretending.

"Aww, but I was so very much enjoying myself," I said as I stood up, "the rain is particularly fascinating today."

"Oh well please forgive me then… I didn't know you were so preoccupied. But Prince Liam isn't gonna wait all day. Let's get to it, shall we?"

"Right behind you." I had already donned my armor while I was waiting, so I immediately fell in line behind the sergeant and walked out of the barracks. The rain bounced off of our armor heavily and every step we took kicked up a puddle of water. I resigned myself to being soaked today, no point in hiding from it.

Prince Liam Greymane stood next to his chestnut horse outside of the barracks, speaking politely to one of the guard captains as he waited for us. His bright orange hair was slicked down and stuck to his face and his fancy attire had completely darkened under the weight of the rain clinging to it. It didn't seem to bother him much though; there wasn't even a servant nearby to hold an umbrella for him.

"There they are!" The prince acknowledged us as we fell in to place beside him, "Cleese, Lyssia, a beautiful day is it not?"

"We were just saying the same thing, Your Highness," I replied with a smile on my face. Prince Liam hardly acted like a "noble". He was kind to almost everyone, and treated his guards like his trusted friends. I had been honored to take a position as one of his Crownguard.

"Before we head out, could I speak to both of you for a moment?" he gestured for us to step away from his horse and the other city watch around us. We followed without question, but when we had retreated sufficiently the prince turned, his cheery demeanor had fallen to one of grim importance. "I'm sure you're wondering why I am not at the Greymane Wall right now…"

"In fact, I was Your Highness." Sergeant Cleese said, "You weren't due back for at least a few more days."

"It's the Forsaken… My father ordered my retreat after finding out about their continued attempts to assault the wall." I was stunned. The Forsaken had not attempted to siege the Greymane wall in years, why had they suddenly begun again?

"Are they close to breaching it?" I asked, "They've never been successful before."

"My father believes it is a distraction. He sent me back to oversee the bolstering of our defenses here in the city while the Wall watchers repel the assault."

"Then let's not waste any more time," I saved a quick thought of my brother, why had he not reported to me on this?

"We're with you, Your Highness."

"I knew I could count on you two to understand the gravity of the situation. We'll keep a low profile but we need to begin distributing the guard to better defend the city in case of a siege. We'll also need to check in on safe routes for citizens to escape should the need arise." We followed the Prince back to his horse. He turned his charm back on as he bid the city guard farewell and we made our way away from the barracks toward the market district.

There wasn't much movement on the streets; the rain gave most people cause to finish their errands quickly. I spotted a few merchants I was acquainted with packing up their stalls early, each of them stopped to wave or give a small bow to Prince Liam, who returned the gesture in kind.

Despite all of the recent hardships, I still loved Gilneas City. The architecture of the buildings always made me feel safe. They were all stacked closely together and reached toward the sky with pointed rooftops. Being in a market square felt like being in your own home's living room most days. Even as I basked in the city's atmosphere I was on high alert, always on the lookout for any threats that could come to the Prince.

"We should head to the nearest watchtower," I said, "we should get an idea of what's been happening lately, see if anything sticks out as strange."

"Let's get to it then," we veered off of the main road towards the watchtower.

We didn't get very far. As soon as we moved to one of the alleys, the ground began to shake beneath us. Another earthquake, they had been so much more common lately. This one was even worse than the ones that came before. Rocks and dust were shook free from the rooftops above us. Prince Liam had to quickly rein his horse under control as it reared up in fear.

At the end of the alley we could see guardsman filtering out of the watchtower, presumably to see if they could help as well as getting themselves out of a potentially collapsible building. As we reoriented ourselves, a noise rang out, loud and clear. Even above sound of the residual aftershocks.

A howl… deep and foreboding rang out over the sound of the rain. It sent icicles down my spine and for a moment I panicked, they were not the howls of ordinary wolves. I swung my head around, desperately searching rooftops and nearby alleyways. The worgen were here, in the city! They had never come this far west before!

Another howl, closer this time. This time I snapped out of the fear, I had a job to do. My vision focused on Sergeant Cleese and the Prince, they too were frantically scanning the area, and I unsheathed my sword and shield as I approached the Prince's side.

"Prince Liam! We need to go now!" Screams from afar could be heard over the downpour now.

"What the hell is going on?" Cleese was now also brandishing his long sword, "How in the Light's name are there worgen in the city?"

"We need to warn the citizens. Get them inside!" The Prince quickly turned his horse around and removed his ceremonial rapier from its sheath on the saddle, "To me, Crownguard! We have work to do." With that, we had no choice but to follow as his horse cantered away back towards the main market square.

The Prince cared greatly for his people, and we would be foolish to call him unprepared for battle, but his experience with worgen had been minimal at best. He hadn't seen their ferocity in battle or their tenacious blood thirst. I respected his decision to help the citizens, but I feared for his safety.

As we hurried back to the main square, the silhouettes of the beasts on the rooftops became clearer. The small amount of light from the setting sun through the storm clouds hardly illuminated their true forms. They leapt across entire streets in single bounds, clambering up and down the tiled rooftops.

One of them got brave enough to land right in front of the Prince, his horse once again rearing up in terror. I felt my blood pulse through my veins, my vision darkening and bathing everything in crimson. I surged forward as fast as my legs would carry me, shoulder-checking the beast with my shield as I got close enough to make contact. It cried out in rage as it hit the cobblestones, I did not give it a chance to rise again. My blade found purchase in its maw and exited through the back of its skull, its claws still reaching for me as it went limp.

"Ha! Excellent, Lyssia!" I heard Cleese call out, "No mercy for these cretins…"

More of the worgen were hitting the streets now, the screams of the citizens only got louder along with the snarling and howling of the worgen themselves. We reached the square, only to find it turned into a war zone. Carts had been toppled over and destroyed; a few bodies laid torn open near them. Guardsmen were already engaged with the worgen that were still there, their fangs dripping with the blood of our people.

"Your Highness, they are slaughtering the townsfolk, we cannot stay here!" I yelled over the sounds of horror.

"You're right… We should retreat deeper into the city; my father's army should offer better protection. Split up and gather as many as you can find. Go! For Gilneas!" Without waiting for our affirmative, I watched my prince gallop forward into the throngs of guardsmen and worgen, stabbing and slashing as went.

"You heard him Lyssia," Cleese yelled, "Evacuation protocol, let's get to it. No one gets left behind if we can help it!"

"On it!"

It was chaos. I took it slow, not allowing myself to get cornered, but they just kept coming no matter how many I was able to cut down. I focused on protecting myself, if the rumors were true the curse could be spread through a simple wound, so I would let none of those monsters touch me.

I circled the square, urging both citizens and guardsmen alike to begin retreating west towards the prison district where the bulk of the army headquartered. The terror on their faces was palpable; I tried to push their screams to the back of my mind. More than a few times I had to cut down worgen that were on the verge of slaughtering more people, and even worse I had to watch as the endless horde succeeded in ending the lives of many of my kinsmen.

My fury was unending. I cut down five of the monsters for every one Gilnean I could not save. I wanted to teach them the meaning of fear. In my rage I caught myself matching their roars and howls with my own, perhaps relishing too much in the smattering of blood on my armor or the sound of their bones snapping under the force of my shield. It was an arduous task, but eventually I circled back to find a contingent of other Crownguard, Cleese, and Prince Liam holding back the beasts as more citizens frantically filtered past them.

"Lyssia! Cleese! Get these people to safety. We'll cover your rear."

"Prince Liam, we can't just—," I began.

"That is an order Lyssia, get going!" He shouted, quite uncharacteristically. There was no arguing with that unfortunately. I pulled Cleese along as I could tell he wanted to argue more, but I knew the Prince would not be swayed.

We took to the flanks of the frightened citizens as we lead them further into the city towards the prison district. The worgen encroached but we kept them at bay long enough to see fortifications along one of the major bridges to the district. We could see them open slightly as a woman quickly waved us in. Cleese and I stayed until the last innocent had made it through before making our way behind the barricade. With the help of the other townsfolk, we slid the makeshift wall closed.


	3. Chapter 2

The blood hadn't even fallen from my daggers yet as I rushed to my King's side. The worgen had made it into the city and somehow were already at the Crownguard Headquarters. Luckily, there was no safer place for our King to be at that moment, but it would not stay that way for long.

"King Greymane, we have to get you out of the city." I said, stepping over the corpse of a worgen the King had bisected not a minute ago.

"Perish the thought, Lycaeos," He spoke, regal and authoritative as always. He hardly seemed phased by the threat to his life, "Our people need us now more than ever. These mongrels will rue the day they set foot on Gilnean soil." The King pushed past me, flicking the rapidly coagulating gore off of his shining longsword. I followed just behind him, waving away the other Crown's Shadows that were cloaked behind the doorway and instructing them to move forward and clear the way.

"Your order's then, sir?"

"We push towards the prison. Consolidate our forces with the military there and see the citizens to safety until such a time when we can return. Where is Master Ramsey?"

"The Master is coordinating the Shadows to escort the nobility to safety."

"Belay those orders. I want _every_ Gilnean, be they noble, blacksmith, or beggar, escorted somewhere safe," The King paused and turned to me as we stood in the main antechamber among the other Crownguard that had gathered there, "Every _single_ life matters here, you tell every Shadow you see as well as the Master, am I clear?"

"Crystal, sir." I was impressed with his concern for the common folk. Growing up a noble, I saw many times over that they were not actually any better than the lower class. In fact, I knew many more middle and lower class folk I would rather converse with. I regarded the King with a salute, but he stopped me, clasping my shoulder as I went to carry out his orders.

"They won't show you any mercy Lycaeos, don't give them the opportunity." His eyes looked sunken in, worn out. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"They won't even see me coming," I returned the shoulder clasp, hoping to somehow reassure him. I had spoken to the King before, but we were not close per se. It seemed like maybe he was just looking for any harbor in the storm. King Greymane turned to regard the Crownguard that had been standing guard by the main door. I had already skulked back into the shadows as he began addressing them; the only thing I heard was his valorous cry of 'For Gilneas!'

The shadows welcomed me among them, shrouded and held me like an old friend. The familiar weight was comforting and I used their power to quickly make my way to the rooftops. I threw myself from roof to roof, using my eagle eye positioning to find survivors. More than once I had to stop to cut down a worgen that made the poor choice of jumping on to the same rooftop as I had.

They were powerful, that much was easy to see at a glance. But they were sloppy, like most rabid beasts are. They telegraphed their claw swipes and bites too early, and without armor of any kind, let alone enchanted armor, my daggers sunk in their flesh with relative ease, though their skin was tougher than the fur let on.

Every citizen I found, I carved them a path and told them to run for it. Hopefully, those that were fighting were keeping the worgen distracted enough for the non-combatants to make it to the prison district. The rain didn't help, the cobblestone streets were slick and it didn't seem to slow the worgen down at all.

Every so often I would see another Crown's Shadow and I would stop long enough to explain to them their new orders. Most of them were relieved; our oath of service was to Gilneas itself, not the Gilnean nobility. We would protect them as well, but not at the expense of other lives if we could help it. Some others complained… the spoiled sons and daughters of other nobles. I paid them no heed, pointing out it was a direct order from their King.

Hours past, it seemed like I had traversed every district in Gilneas City. Only a few times did the beasts get the drop on me, but they weren't quick enough to harm me. I was almost at the prison, when I heard a shrill cry from a nearby alleyway. A young girl it sounded like, I broke off in a sprint.

She was hardly a teenager, her clothes had been soaked through and there was blood rushing down her forehead, but that wasn't what scared me the most. A worgen, stark white fur with its maw stained red, was using its claws to skid down the wall of the nearby building. Its knife-like claws dug into the stone wall, sending sparks flying as it descended. I wasn't going to get there in time by running.

I focused on the magic coursing through me, linking me to the shadows. I needed to be faster. So I made myself faster. In an instant, my body dispersed into shadow matter and reappeared directly in front of the girl. The sensation was familiar, but I had no time to adjust as I lashed out with my daggers. I beat the worgen to the punch, sinking the blades into its chest and tackling it to the ground.

I yanked and twisted to try and finish him off quickly, but I felt a sting in my shoulder as the massive body fell still. It wasn't a deep wound, but the teeth marks were easily seen through my leather armor. I fell to the side of the dead worgen and remembered my original reason for the detour. The girl came up to me as I stood up, her tears impossible to distinguish from the rain falling on her face.

"Th-thank you! Oh thank the Light you came!" She hugged around my waist and squeezed almost tight enough for it to hurt. I could see her clothes were ragged. Dirt and grime were flowing off of her face as the rain gave her an impromptu shower, "I-I didn't know what to d-do."

"Hey, it's gonna be okay," I knelt down to her level, "We're trying to get everyone to the prison district so the army can protect us, do you wanna come with me?"

"P-Please…" Her voice was muffled as she pressed her head into my stomach.

"Okay, c'mon we need to get moving before more of those monsters find us." I grabbed her hand and began to run; I was pleasantly surprised to see her keep up with me rather easily at my normal running pace.

Finally the barricades that had been erected on the bridge came into view, the prison district on the other side. I waved down the sentry atop the nearest barricade and he disappeared from view, thankfully to begin opening the barricade wide enough for us to get through.

"You might wanna close your eyes hon," I said to the girl as I saw the throngs of worgen and human corpses littering the area just outside the barricade, "just stay right behind me, okay? We're almost there." Her only answer was a small 'mm-hm' and I looked back to see her furiously scrunching her eyes shut. I scooped her up and sidled between the barricades.


	4. Chapter 3

Despite the relative safety, there was no peace to be found once we got into the prison district. People were scrambling around all over, treating the injured, bolstering defenses, or trying to find those they had lost. I thought of Prince Liam, hoping he would be just on our tails. I had faith he had would be okay, but it didn't sit right with me having to leave him behind. At that moment, I tried to distract myself by offering what aid I could.

Seeing the people like that, crouched in fear, hiding and cowering, it broke something in me. The edges of my vision blurred and ran red, I thought of those snarling beasts and the bodies strewn along the normally peaceful streets. My blood felt like it was boiling in my veins. Before I could break my jaw from tensing it so much, a voice cut through all the noise around me. It was familiar, comforting, and I let out a shaky breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Lyssia! Thank the Light you're alright!" My little brother, Lycaeos, dressed head to toe in his black Crown's Shadow garb, pushed through the crowd and almost tackled me in a hug. We were both tall, but him more so than me, he leaned down just slightly to encompass me. I returned the hug as hard as I could.

"Lycaeos…" I heaved another sigh of relief, "I knew we'd find each other." We separated and I got a good look at him. His bright orange hair was darkened and matted from all the rain, though he seemed uninjured if a little out of breath.

"These beasts can't keep the Ilworth twins down, you should know that." I couldn't help but smile.

"Have you heard anything? About what's going on? I was with the Prince when they first attacked but we don't actually know what's happening."

"It's those damn earthquakes; everything's being shaken up, the worgen, the Forsaken, even the bloody hill giants. To my knowledge, King Greymane has some sort of plan for taking back the city though."

"We need to see if we can help, I can't stand just twiddling my thumbs anymore." It was true. My fingers were practically twitching to get back out into the fray.

"The Prince just arrived not long ago, he and the King are in front of the prison, c'mon let's go." He patted me on the shoulder as he moved forward, motioning me to follow. It was another pleasant surprise to hear that the Prince was safe as well. Things were looking up, it seemed.

The two of us maneuvered our way through the throngs of citizens and soldiers that lined the streets. There were more injured than I would have liked, entire alleyways were sectioned off for those who had been attacked.

"I can't believe there are so many of them," I said, "how could their population have grown this much?"

"We had been investigating that actually," Lycaeos was avoiding looking me in the eye, "We found a… cult. They were forcing people to drink the blood of worgen they had captured. Lyssia, the things I had to see…"

"Wait, it's true then?" I stopped him, grasping his shoulder and turning him to face me, "Those things can turn humans into more of them?"

"It does appear that way, yes."

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?!"

"I did!"

"I haven't gotten correspondence from you in days!"

"You… haven't?" Lycaeos looked confused as he avoided my gaze again, "I sent you three separate letters, you received none of them?"

"No, I haven't," We began to understand what had happened; "There really must be more of them out there than we anticipated." Lycaeos fingered his dagger hilt nervously despite his face being a mask of stone. I had learned his slightest little tells in all the years we had been together.

"None of this matters now. We need to do our duty and check on the Royal Family." Normally I would have chided him for his sudden stern behavior, but it didn't seem appropriate at the time.

"You're right, c'mon. But we're not done talking about this." I pretended not to see him roll his eyes.

The square in front of the prison had been transformed into a base camp, but it was hardly protected. The prison gates were inundated with the bodies of dead soldiers and worgen. Yet, standing tall above everyone, King Greymane was atop his bright white horse, shouting orders and talking to a group of other nobles that swarmed him from all angles. We approached the King, quickly bowing our heads in respect. We might have bowed deeper, but the situation called for swifter action than that.

"Enough! I've made my decision. Crowley is the kind of man we need right now, and I won't let him die to these beasts in a prison cell," He looked across the soldiers surrounding him, and his eyes fell on us, "Lord and Lady Ilworth! Darius Crowley is within the prison, and we desperately need him. Can I count on you two? Sending the rank and file soldiers will only anger him I imagine."

We both knew of Darius Crowley, of course. The leader of the Northgate Rebellion we had helped quash a while back. He was a well known friend and confidant of King Greymane, though he was understandably put out by the Greymane Wall cutting off a sizeable portion of his land. He had been imprisoned for some time, though circumstances the way they were, we didn't question our King's decision to free him.

"You can count on us Your Highness." Lycaeos spoke for both of us. Our eyes met. Words didn't need to be spoken, but they were comforting all the same, "I'm right behind you."

"The worgen have infested the prison, be careful you two. That's an order." King Greymane turned back to the other Lords, some of which were less than pleased with his decision. I removed my shield from my back and made my way to the prison gates, Lycaeos vanishing into the shadows as he followed behind.

Lyssia's shield was like a spiked wall to the worgen; they ran at it and broke their bodies upon it, over and over again. I covered her back as well as dispatching any that got too close to Crowley and his men. How the three men had reached the roof was a mystery to me, but I had my orders and I would see them through. The worgen could smell the blood of Crowley's wounded companion and they came in droves, leaping impossible distances from the nearby rooftops.

As they finally stabilized the man, we took off the roof together as one. My sister was the first to go barreling down the stairs to the prison's courtyard, knocking stray worgen to either side of her. I quickly finished them off, though the pain in my shoulder was steadily increasing. The worgen's bite hadn't been deep, but all the movement I had been doing was agitating it more than I would have liked.

As we returned Crowley to King Greymane, we could see the soldiers had set up more solid defenses. I could tell they wouldn't hold though, not with how many beasts there were. Lyssia and I were ordered to gather Crowley's siege equipment from a nearby storage house. We broke open the lock on the cellar door and found ourselves face to face with more ballistics than I had ever seen in one place.

"What… How could they have snuck all of this into the city?!" I shouted as I looked at what was inside the locked cellar. Rows and rows of cannons, stacks upon stacks of ammunition and firearms, all of it funneled into the city without my knowing.

"It would seem you had a rat in your midst, brother," Lyssia's words did not make me feel any better, "try to put it behind you. It doesn't matter quite as much anymore." Despite knowing she was right, things had drastically changed, I still felt a twinge of disappointment in myself. What kind of agent was I if I couldn't see betrayal in our own ranks?

"No, no no, that's not… that can't be…" A voice we didn't recognize caught our attention. As we moved around one of the cannons, we found a man with his back turned to us, on his knees. He was muttering to himself, twitching erratically. His clothes were tattered, though I could tell they had once been rather opulent.

"Sir?" I heard my sister say as she stepped closer, "Are you hurt? What happened?" It was then I saw his twitching grow more rapid, it almost looked as if he was… growing in size. His muttering turned to a growl, and before I could recognize what was happening, it was too late.

"Wait, Lyssia!"

"Stay away FROM ME!" The man we had seen was no longer there, replaced by one of the beasts. His clothes tore as his form enlarged, and his elongated maw lashed out at my sister. I was too late to stop it.

"AHH!" Lyssia recoiled, and I jumped into action. I rushed forward and kicked the beast to the ground, planting one of my daggers directly between his eyes. His form went slack and slumped against the wall of the cellar.

"By the Light, are you okay?! Where did he get you?" I frantically checked over my sister after making sure the creature was dead.

"I-I'm fine, he only grazed my hand, I just… really wasn't expecting that." She was shaken, I could see that easily. She hadn't seen the transformation like I had before, it was not something easily forgotten, "So they really can turn us into them… How the hell do we fight something like that?"

"Very, very carefully," Her wound was small; thankfully, its teeth had just barely found their way between the chainmail in her gauntlets, "C'mon, we have to tell Greymane we found the artillery." I gently helped her up, and she shook the shock from her face. She wasn't happy that something had gotten the drop on her.

The streets were full of people running away from the prison as we emerged from the cellar. Before we could decipher what was happening, a voice called to us from within the crowd.

"Ilworths!" A man atop a horse made his way to us. It was the Prince himself, seemingly no worse for wear given the circumstances.

"Prince Liam!" Lyssia visibly relaxed at the sight of her charge and his relative safety, "What's happening? We found Crowley's artillery!"

"Good, we're going to need it. The worgen are coming from the east in hordes, I'll keep some units here to man the cannons. Meanwhile, get moving! I need you both keeping the citizens safe." I could tell Lyssia wanted to argue, but I knew she would relent. We had passed the point of arguing, there was no time for it.

We both took off to the west, joining the throngs of people fleeing that direction. As we looked back, we could only see the clouds of smoke from the cannons and the deafening blasts filled our ears, barely blocking out the sound of our people screaming.


	5. Chapter 4

The smoke had become commonplace so quickly. Nearly every other house they saw had caught some amount of fire and the rain that continued to pour down sent smoke billowing skyward as it kept the flames from spreading too quickly.

But as the Ilworth twins rounded a familiar corner together, their hearts skipped a collective beat. Their home, their parents' former home they had inherited, was a shadow of what it had been less than a day ago. Overrun by the worgen, almost every window had been smashed inward and they could see the fire lighting the home from within, so like and yet unlike when they kept the hearth lit at night.

As they stood, silent and mouths agape, the doorway to their childhood home burst outward, torn from its hinges. A worgen, a head and a half taller than either of them, stood snarling at them. Its teeth red with blood and part of its fur still caught on fire, though it hardly seemed to be bothered by the flames.

* * *

I heard Lyssia take off before I saw it happen. She screamed in rage, sprinting forward faster than I had ever seen her move. The worgen barely had time to growl at her before she tackled it to the cobblestones. In one swift movement, she brought her shield down on its muzzle. I could hear the crunch of its bones, even above the rain and fire, it was most certainly dead. But Lyssia continued battering her shield into its face over and over again, crying out in anger and pain.

"Lyssia! Lyssia, enough!" I screamed as I ran forward, tearing her off of the worgen's corpse, "It's over Lyssia! We have to go!"

"GO?! Are you utterly daft? Just… look at this!" She turned and gestured at what used to be our house and did her best to hide the tears in her eyes. Even through the downpour I could hear the waver in her voice.

"I know! Okay? I know. But staying here isn't going to rebuild it," I stole another glance. The window that I used to read by was shattered. I could only see the top of the stained glass raven that adorned the library window; the rest had fallen off in shards. Something gnawed at my stomach and I couldn't stop clenching my jaw, "We will come back, okay? When we finally kill these mongrels… we'll make it better than it was."

Lyssia stood silently, lifting her shield and readjusting it on her arm. She stared at the desiccated ruins of our home, and I found it impossible to say anything else. I stood with her, one hand resting on her shoulder. Even among the distant screaming, the howling worgen, the crackling of wood and fire, the pelting rain, I couldn't find it in myself to make her move.

"We'll come back," she spoke suddenly, as if speaking to the house itself. She grasped my hand for a moment and went to turn away, but not before she spat at the crushed worgen corpse still leaking its blood into the cracks of the cobblestones.

We moved through the streets with purpose, but I could tell Lyssia was getting tired. Honestly, so was I. Both of our breathing had become labored and heavy, we had been fighting and running for hours. Eventually, we returned to the only safe place left in the whole city. Guards and civilians both stood all along the makeshift barricades firing their rifles out at the never-ending stream of worgen.

The past few hours had been us simply finding and rescuing as many people as we could, it was the only order that the King and Prince gave us. Their trust was not misplaced, as we did succeed in evacuating plenty of survivors. The knowledge of that did little to remove the faces of those I had failed, or the visions of the broken bodies scattered along Gilneas City's once peaceful streets.

Lyssia and I worked as a team, her rushing headlong into danger while I guarded her back from the shadows. There were plenty of them, as we had been running for so long the sun was beginning to set. I could see Lyssia's focused fury in every swing of her sword and every bash from her shield. She was quieter than normal, and I hardly blamed her. I took to my own duties with as much grim determination as I could muster, but I knew how this day would have to end. The city was no longer under our control.

We had returned to the ramshackle camp set up by the city's main gate. King Greymane and his son were still there, giving orders and directing the troops. We had been trying to rest, if only a moment, but we both found it difficult. We confided to each other that both of us felt off, our heads swam and our blood felt like molten slag in our veins. I inspected Lyssia's eyes, the normally vibrant green had dulled slightly and the rest of the eye was almost completely red. She told me that I looked much the same.

"Lyssia! Lycaeos! The King's made his decision. We're evacuating the city, heading east to Duskhaven." Sergeant Cleese came up to us, looking haggard as well. His armor was smeared in gore and his face covered in soot.

"Damn it all…" Lyssia growled as she punched the crate she sat on with an armored hand.

"We won't make it far past the gates, as soon as we move the worgen will be right on top of us."

"The King says he has a plan for that too, c'mon."

We found out what that plan was as King Greymane rounded up as many people as he could to explain. Lord Darius Crowley and his men were to create a distraction at Light's Dawn Cathedral that would allow the majority of the populace to escape unscathed. It was a fool plan, one that could easily go wrong. The worgen could not take the bait, his men could fail before they even got to the cathedral, and there could be more already waiting in the hills. But I wracked my brain for a better idea and found nothing but more anger in my thoughts.

"I'm going with you," Lyssia's voice surprised me. It was the first time she spoke since we had left our incinerated home. She walked past me and up to Lord Crowley, "I'm sick of running."

"Lady Ilworth, you've done more than enough already. I can't promise we'll come back from this. Are you—"

"I'm sure." She turned to me, her face cold and resolute, "I can't ask you to—"

"Save it. I'm coming with you," I wouldn't even let her finish that thought. I thought of the bodies again. I saw the petrified faces of fear and agony. I could see bone white teeth gnashing inches from my face, "I've always had your back, that's never gonna change."

She carved out the first smile I had seen on her face all day. I tried to put it to memory, but it was gone all too quickly.

"Very well, we'll be glad to have you." Darius turned to address his men, "Ladies and gentlemen, these beasts invaded our home and slaughtered our countrymen. I plan to take as many of them down with me as I join the Light this day as I can possibly kill. Now, who's with me!?"

Lyssia and I didn't join in the cheer

"You stay right on my back, understand?" She grabbed the back of my neck and pulled our foreheads together, staring me straight in the eye with her own bloodshot ones. I returned the gesture.

"Then you better keep your shield on mine."

Lycaeos, true to his word, stayed near me the whole time. Our horses ran parallel to each other as close as we dared bring them. We stayed close to the front of the pack on the way to Light's Dawn Cathedral, slicing through the worgen ranks as fast as we could. Somehow, Crowley's men had already set up cannons at the entrance, the cold steel sticking out like an ugly sore against the gold-trimmed interior of the chapel.

A final stand, they were kept calling it. They could name it what they wanted, but I would not stop fighting until my muscles refused to raise my weapons any longer, and judging by the ferocity in Lycaeos' eyes he was right there with me the whole way. It could have been minutes or hours that we fought on the Cathedral steps, the throngs of worgen never seeming to dwindle even as our own forces did.

"Everyone inside! We end this here and now!" Crowley shouted over the battle, and his men followed instantly. Lycaeos and I covered each other as we too entered the shining halls of the Cathedral, now darkened by the setting of the sun.

My vision, quite literally, had gone red. I saw nothing but the next beast that fell beneath my blade. I heard nothing but the screams and growls of my own voice, as well as those of Lycaeos on my flank. The stained-glass windows shattered all around us, and for a moment I caught my brother's eye.

We were both exhausted. Perhaps in that moment we knew it was over. We didn't need words to say goodbye. Our gazes crossed, and the rage of losing everything we had ever known burned in my chest.

I let the creeping darkness in, falling to my knees next to my brother. The screams and snarling stopped and I could only hear my own heartbeat. I reached out one last time for the only person I had left on Azeroth, and I fell into the abyss.


	6. Chapter 5

He heard a call. It was not the familiar howl of his brethren or the delicious panic of his prey. It was softer than either of those. Its caress was that of a mate, a companion. It was quiet, gentle; he was not used to gentle anymore. He smelled the air and the enticing stench of blood and decay was stifled, for the moment.

Nothing about the call said danger, so he followed it. Out of instinct? Curiosity? It didn't matter; the call became more insistent as he got closer. Through his tunnel vision, he could see where it originated from. He came upon a great tree, one that the shifting of the earth had lifted high enough that its roots were exposed. Beneath the tree was only darkness that even his keen eyes could not pierce.

On all fours, he approached, sniffing the air for any sign of danger. The scent was odd, yet soothing. It was almost… familiar. Fresh peacebloom, ground bloodthistle, the faint smell of dying orchids, the feeling of the wind through a window at midnight. It smelled like home.

Home? He had no home… had he? The call continued growing in intensity, beckoning him to dive into the shadows between the tree roots and upturned earth. The tension in his shoulders softened as the darkness covered him. He stood upright once again, dragging one long nail along the underside of a root.

His vision darkened, but he felt no fear. His fight or flight response was halted, even as his body locked up. The muscles in his neck, arms, and legs went taut. His brow unfurrowed. Sleep found him quickly, and the calling dwindled until quiet finally found him.

* * *

Pain.

She had been careless, caught unawares. The stabbing pain shot through her left leg and caused her to tumble to the ground in a heap. She thrashed, hoping to scare off or tear asunder whatever had dared attempt to attack her. The pain did not subside, and she found it impossible to try and stand up. Her claws met only dirt and air as she flailed them all around her.

She heard voices. Human voices. _Prey_ voices. But the hunter was incapacitated; she could feel her heart thumping against her chest even faster than it did at her full sprint. The smell of raw meat invaded her senses and she slavered at the thought of a fresh meal, completely ignoring the fact that she couldn't hunt on one leg.

Footsteps grew louder now, clumsy ones that made too much noise in the underbrush. Their words meant nothing to her and she continued to reach out and grasp at the humans that now surrounded her. The humans must have been prepared, something was thrown over her and trapped her entire body, pinning it to the ground.

More words. More words! She struggled in her bindings but could not break free. She would flay these pathetic creatures alive! Hear their cries of fear and agony like the sweetest song! Taste their flesh and _roll_ in their _entrails_! She heard more clumsy steps toward her prone form and tried once more to free herself, to no avail. Another pain, quick but powerful, impacted the side of her head, and the world dissolved.

* * *

She awoke in a cage. The human wretches thought they could contain her, but she would escape. Her blood boiled at the knowledge of her being trapped. She couldn't smell much anymore, besides the smell of fresh rain outside the bars of her cage. She had already tried to break them as well as tried to squeeze through the bars, but her hulking form was too big.

A man approached, his smell hitting her before the sound of his boots in the mud did. Cologne, musky and heady, mixed with the vague scent of leather and sweat. He came close, but even out of the corner of her eye she could see he knew to stay just far enough out of her reach. Her stomach ached at the idea of raw flesh.

"Look at what you've become…" Without the adrenaline in her system, the words made slightly more sense to her. "Those cursed beasts. They've left you nothing more than just another _wretched mongrel."_

She rose from the shadows of her cage. This prey would regret coming so close to a caged predator. His eyes were masked by the glasses he wore, though she could still recognize a human sneer when she saw one.

"Do you even remember what you did to your friends?" He stared at her like she was the prey, the old fool, "Your kind… haunting the wilds unchecked. Until we _found you._ "

Words, words, words! It was enough to drive her mad; her breath came in great heaves now. She brought her face even closer to the bars of the cage. Her glowing yellow eyes met his cloudy glasses. The scent was even stronger now, the scent of a creature that held no fear. No… it was not the scent of prey.

"They've kept you alive because they still believe you can be saved," The human came dangerously close. Her claws would probably be stopped just before they tore into his neck if she tried. He kneeled down to her level, as she was on all fours, and removed the top hat adorning his head, "To which, I must ask. Is there even a _shred_ of humanity left within you?"

Her fangs were dripping with saliva; it had been so long since she had eaten anything. The long claws that made up her hands sunk into the dirt beneath her, the blood that had been caked onto them mixing with the slick mud created by the rain entering her cell. She could only see the man's face as tunnel-vision took over, even then his features showed no fear. All she could recognize in his face was disgust, like that of a predator forced to eat vermin to sustain itself. The sound of booming thunder broke her from her trance and she slunk back to the shadows of her cage.

"Perhaps, we will find out… soon enough."


	7. Chapter 6

He emerged, wreathed in shadow that fell from his shoulders like a waterfall. His mind was clear for the first time in months, but his thoughts had changed. They took different paths through his brain than they did before and trying to remember gave him a headache. There was a name… he had a name once. He had a life once. The shadows around him swirled in response to his confusion, easing the growing tension that was building inside him.

Lycaeos. The name. He remembered it was him. He had been called Lycaeos once. He looked down at the razor-thin claws that made up his hands. Lycaeos had not had claws like them. Nor did he have mud-caked fur or fangs that were fixed outside of his mouth, glistening white wherever they weren't stained with blood.

The shadows had saved him, given him his identity once more. Darkness had always been his friend, even before his transformation. He could remember now when he first bent them, shaped them the way he wanted. He remembered covering himself in shadow, stalking prey, but not as the beast he was now.

Umbramancy, they had called it, the study and manipulation of shadow energy. He was lucky to have the gift for it, apparently doubly so since it seemed to give him his humanity back, if only for the moment. With every step he took, the shadows falling from him filled in the tracks so it seemed as if no movement had taken place.

He needed to find help; the other humans had been hunting them for weeks now. They were craftier than he originally thought. He had seen his kin snared by their traps many times already. If he could be saved, perhaps they could as well. They had to know that there was still a semblance of who they once were.

* * *

It had been _weeks._

They fed her scraps that tasted terrible, and while she would rather not give them the satisfaction, dying of starvation was not how she would allow herself to perish. The food was odd, wrapped in foliage and doused in foul smelling liquids. They had to be toying with her, wearing her down until they grew bored of her misery.

Her waking hours were spent pacing in her cage, searching for a way out. But the bars were sturdy, and the space between them would not allow her hulking frame to escape. She glared and snarled at any who came near. Some would come to look at her with a look she didn't understand at first. As more time passed, she seemed to remember. It was pity. They looked at her like an animal trapped in a menagerie.

Others came to taunt her, kicking the bars of her cage or throwing rotten food at her. She gave them no satisfaction until they got too close. She had lashed out at one man that thought she was broken and he paid for it with a gash across his shoulder. The blood… did not sate her like it did before. It was the only fresh blood she had had in weeks, yet it did not calm her like it once had. In fact, it tasted terrible, like licking raw iron ore.

As the days droned on, the humans kept moving her, moving their whole camp. She had found it hard to stay awake as the days went on. She spent more and more time sleeping. The rage in her heart was not as vibrant as it had been. The blood haze in her eyes lifted slightly, so she once again saw colors that she forgot existed. The humans were doing something to her, changing who she was, turning her into _prey_. That must have been it; why else would they have kept her locked away for so long?

Slowly, very slowly, memories trickled back into her mind. She was not always the beast, no, she was more than that at one point. She had a family. A brother. She remembered her first taste of human flesh and she retched at the thought of it. She had changed, but she could barely remember why or how.

Another human approached one that she had never seen before in all her weeks of captivity. This one wore a faded dark lab coat and cloak. His hair was dull and gray and he moved like someone of advanced age. His voice creaked as he spoke to her.

"Well now… it seems we've made some more progress. I think you're finally ready!" Fear gripped her once more, a primal fear that told her she was going to be put down finally. The man placed a vial of some lustrous purple substance in her cage. She could practically see the scent wafting out of the bottle it was so powerful. The heady scent made her woozy and she decided to close her eyes until the smell petered out.

* * *

I awoke with the ability to remember my name. Lyssia... I had not heard the sounds spoken for months, but I remembered now. my vision cleared to show the two men in front of me. A middle-aged man in fancy clothes wearing a top hat, and King Greymane himself clad in his tan overcoat and looking a little worse for wear than he normally did. I couldn't move my arms or my head; it took me a moment to realize I was trapped in a stockade.

"I knew she could make it, she was always a strong one." Greymane spoke, regarding me with a tiny smile, "Let's get her out of there."

"My Lord, she was barely coherent not two days ago," The man in the top hat said. It took me a moment before I recognized him… Lord Godfrey. He had been there the day Gilneas City was evacuated, and he had been the one who spoke to me that the day I was captured. "I highly doubt she can be trusted."

"Mind your tongue, _Lord_ Godfrey. _She's_ right in front of you, after all." I finally spoke, for the first time in months. The voice was not the one I remembered, it was deep and hoarse like I was growling rather than speaking. It surprised me, even hearing it come out of my own throat. At this point, I also saw the hands, my hands, that were trapped by the stockade. They were no longer the strong and calloused flesh that I knew I once had. They were covered in dark fur and each finger ended in a razor-sharp claw. I flexed them slightly just to make sure they were really mine.

"Well well, I appear to be mistaken." Godfrey sneered at me in a perfectly Gilnean noble way, before walking away without another word.

"Lyssia! Glad you are back with us," Greymane moved around me and I heard the jingling of keys. The pressure around my neck and wrists let up and I was able to stand up straight, "Believe me, I know this strange. But you'll get used to it, I promise."

The first thing I noticed was how much taller I was. I had stood next to King Greymane before and had been just a bit shorter than him. Now though, I stood at least a head taller than him. I inspected my body closer, every inch covered in coarse, black fur. My feet were bare, but they were… paws now, with long nails on each toe. The strangest sensation as I practically fell over as I noticed them, were my legs. Their new digitigrade shape was disconcerting. Though as I paced around the stockade, I found I was strangely adept at walking on them.

"Strange doesn't begin to describe it," That voice again, it was not my own. I would need to get used to it. It was then the hunger hit me, the same type of gnawing hunger that I remembered from the wild. Saliva dripped down my fangs, another new and upsetting sensation.

"Go see our alchemist, Krennan Arenas. He's been treating you the past few weeks. He'll have some food for you." Greymane said as he continued on to the next stockade and the worgen trapped in it, "And Lyssia? It's good to have you back." The hunger subsided slightly. I was amazed at his ability to look past my new visage.

"Thank you, my Lord, it's… good to be back." The voice that was hardly mine said. I still could barely believe anything that was happening. I couldn't stop looking at my hands as I left the fenced off area, but a voice to my side caught me off guard.

"So you're not feral after all. At least… not yet," The voice was coated in venom and carried with it the accent of Gilnean nobility. Lord Godfrey stood to one side of the holding pen with a rifle slung over his shoulder. "Looks like I won't have to shoot you anytime soon."

"It seems that way," I growled out, feeling my lips curl ever so slightly into a snarl at his condescension.

"Go see Arenas and let him know his elixir worked," He pointed to a nearby house that towered over the others placed around a small square, "He's in charge of the house where we keep… your kind." Dark thoughts shot through my mind, blood-soaked red thoughts, and for a moment I imagined tearing out the smug bastard's vocal cords before I reined the urge under control.

"I'll go do just that then," I said, "Have a _wonderful_ day, Lord Godfrey." The words felt like bile on my tongue.


	8. Chapter 7

His worgen form was useful for many reasons. Running on all fours became second nature to him; he had never been faster in his life. He was stronger as well and not just from the worgen's larger form, but a magic deep within his core fueled him to achieve feats of strength unimaginable before. Even the shadows seemed to cling tighter to him, as though they embraced what he had become.

One thing it did not afford him was the ability to keep people at ease around him. When he had found his former countrymen, they regarded him with understandable mistrust. He was not surprised by this. His fangs could not be hidden, nor could his claws be retracted. The glow of his purple eyes held the promise of terrible things.

He was not the first worgen to regain their former selves. It had happened while he was gone, both in body and mind. The fortunate few that changed while fleeing the capital city were isolated, and treatment had been found as quickly as possible. Despite the incredible feat of alchemy that afforded the new worgen their minds back, they were hardly trusted.

Duskhaven. A haven indeed. The closest town outside of the city had become a refuge for the people that had fled Gilneas City. Lycaeos had stumbled upon hunters just outside of the town and, after a few misguided attempts to capture and detain him, he approached and explained that his mind was no longer lost. He was brought, at gunpoint, to Krennan Arenas, the royal alchemist. He was fascinated that Lycaeos had somehow been able to focus himself back under control. Though he still administered the elixir that the other afflicted received.

He spent most of his time away from those not afflicted, and tried to limit his time around the other worgen as well. The wilds still held many of their former kinsmen, and he vowed to save as many as he could.

Drizzle was really the best you could hope for in Gilneas, I had gotten used to the constant rain but at least in the city it was relatively easy to avoid. I spent most of my days out hunting for other worgen, made more difficult by the fact that they could smell that I was different than them. I could kill them no longer, not after seeing what the curse had done to me. Some were perhaps too far gone, but I endeavored to find the ones that we could help.

Duskhaven quickly became a refuge for the newly minted worgen citizens of Gilneas city, though it took time for the non-afflicted to become comfortable with their presence. I still don't think anyone is fully used to it, or will ever be. I spent my time trying to avoid thinking about it. I was different now, but I long ago pledged to keep my countrymen safe and I did my best to ignore the consequences of that oath.

I was one of the lucky ones, honestly. My natural abilities to hide and control the shadows only became enhanced in my new form, and the claws were surprising useful for many things. I found the ability to run on all fours strange, if not entirely alien, until I realized just how much faster I was.

But there were downsides, to be sure. Any new worgen you spoke to felt "the hunger" as we had taken to calling it. The urge, deep in our guts, to return to the wild and feast on blood and flesh again. It gnawed at you constantly. It got worse at night, when the moon's light found us and the ferals howled into the darkness. We tried to be each other's strength, but I was never any good at that with strangers. I tried to leave who I once was behind, I tried to embrace the new form I was cursed with and the reaction I got from those who would never again see me as the human I once was.

Which is why I was so surprised when our alchemist, Krennan, told me about our newest batch of captured ferals. He mentioned how one of them, even despite all the time in the wild, was found with a metal gauntlet still clinging to her left arm. They had removed the gauntlet and found something carved into the metal. Three names, Lycaeos, Calem, and Gwendolynn. My name… and my parents. I didn't immediately get my hopes up, I had hardened myself for disappointment long ago, but I couldn't help the beat that my heart skipped upon understanding the implication.

For three days, I watched from the shadows as they kept who I thought was my sister in stockades. The female worgen fought fiercely at first, lashing out at the slightest touch, but with Krennan's treatment she eventually began to calm. I was only able to see her face from afar, but perhaps it was something about the way she fought or the sound of her howling at nighttime, I had a feeling it was her. Somehow, my sister survived our suicide mission as well and she was now cursed as I was.

I am not a religious man, and I never have been. My parents weren't necessarily pushy, but they were staunch followers of the Light. Something about the prospect of seeing my sister again made me foolish, I suppose. On the third night of my vigil over the worgen who was possibly my sister, I prayed. I prayed to the Light to help my sister find herself once more. I prayed to the shadows that kept me to help her the way they had helped me.

On that third night, my possible sister only howled once before she passed out. As she did, I looked up to the moon, remembering all the times I had done the same when I was not at the helm of my own mind. Apparently, some people on Azeroth worshipped the moon, or so I had been taught as a child. There was a serenity that came over me as I gazed at the shining orb; I had to suppress my own urge to howl. My last prayer was a desperate one, I prayed to the moon that watched over us. I did not know what good it would do. It simply felt right.


	9. Chapter 8

"Lyssia…"

I heard the voice before I saw where it came from. My own name was still practically foreign to me at this point. It took me a moment before I realized someone was talking to me. Over the general din of noise within the city hall, now renovated to hold Duskhaven's new worgen population, I heard the deep and rumbling voice call out my name.

The speaker was another worgen and judging by the larger frame and the more pronounced hunch in the back, a male one. His fur was similar to mine, black as a starless night sky, and his eyes shimmered with a violet light. I thought he was angry at first with the way his fangs were bared, though upon noticing other male worgen around us I realized that was another normal trait.

"It's really…" He paused, lifting his nose closer to me. Smelling my scent without any real permission given on my part, "It's really you!" I was caught in a powerful hug, the worgen's arms encircling mine and pinning them to my sides. For a moment, the feral part of me panicked. I began to squirm in his embrace, feeling like I was trapped. Unconsciously, I started to growl from deep in my throat, causing him to drop me suddenly and move away.

"Maybe that wasn't a good way to start, I'm sorry," He bowed his head. Only then did I notice the other worgen in the room staring at me. Some of them began slinking away as I continued growling; others stood up and started snarling themselves, "Can you recognize me, Lyssia?"

"I just got my mind back hardly ten minutes ago, so no I don't—" But I had to stop myself as a familiar scent wafted into my nose. I couldn't really describe it in words, and I don't even remember where I smelled it originally, but it reminded me of someone. It smelled like silence and old books, like armor polish and shadows cast by moonlight. In a way, it reminded me of my own scent. It smelled like home.

"I think this is yours," he held out a piece of armor in front of me, "They thought I figured I was probably the best person to hold onto it." I took the metal gauntlet in my clawed hand as memories flooded back into my head. I flipped it over to see the palm of the hand, and saw the three names I knew would be there.

"Lycaeos!" I dropped the armor piece in my haste, giving the other worgen my best impression of the hug he gave me. My brother stood before me. Changed and cursed the same way I had been, but I could not deny that scent. The gauntlet only sealed what I already knew to be true. He returned my embrace, softer this time, and we didn't speak for a while. We just held on to the only thing left of our former lives.

"How long have you been here?" I finally asked, breaking the hug, "Do you remember what happened to us?" Lycaeos looked at the other worgen still staring at us. They had stopped growling at least, but my brother continued to look nervous.

"Not here… c'mon." He started to lead me upstairs, to a private room. He locked the door behind him, "I almost can't believe it. I should've known not even this could keep you down." He smiled a wide, fanged smile.

"Me? It looks like you got your head back quicker than I did. What happened?"

He told me everything. He told me he remembered seeing me fall in Light's Dawn Cathedral, of laying in a bloody mess among the broken pews and vision fading, and he told me about how the shadows themselves seemed to call to him. He said he didn't remember much after that until he woke back up, all of his mental faculties in check for that moment.

"So I tried to find some way to not get killed on sight by everyone who's still human. Eventually I just tried talking to them and was taken to Krennan. Good timing too… I could already feel the hunger returning when Krennan finally administered his elixir to me."

"Must've been nice, waking up on your own. All I can remember is being hungrier than I've ever been. That, and almost lashing out to try and eat Lord Godfrey."

"I almost wish you had given in to that urge. Lord Godfrey has been nothing but a thorn in the side of every worgen that's been awoken. Him and the other Lords from the East, they're all a little… puritanical for my tastes."

"Believe me, I can imagine. He was arguing to 'put me down' when I first awoke. At least I got the better of him that time."

We talked for a long while. About the final stand in the Cathedral, about what we could piece together from our months of being feral, about the state of Duskhaven and Gilneas City. Lycaeos had returned to his duties as a Crown's Shadow, though their numbers had dwindled immensely since the original attack. He had been scouring the countryside for worgen to bring back for treatment, as well as keeping tabs on the City itself.

It was almost like we were avoiding talking about the physical beings standing in front of us. For a moment, I had forgotten that I was standing on wolf legs. I put aside the fact that our voices were two octaves lower and sounded like someone had put them through a cheese grater. I tried to ignore the gnawing in my stomach, which was more difficult. When there were lulls in the conversation, I could see the same in Lycaeos' face. His eyes grew distant for a moment before I started talking again, breaking him out of the stupor.

"So… what do we do now?" I asked, after a long while of catching up.

"I suppose that's up to you. I don't think anyone would blame you for taking some time to yourself, I certainly did when I first was coherent again."

"I could do that… but that sounds quite boring, brother. If there are more like me still out there, it's the least I can do to help them at this point. Someone has to, right?" I did my best impersonation of a smile, worgen lips didn't seem to move that way naturally.

"I'd appreciate the help," he said, also with what I assumed was a smile and not a horrific baring of his already on-display fangs, "you know, we're even more like twins now."

"Hmm? How's that?"

"Look." He brought me over to a mirror set inside of the room's boudoir and it became clear to me. Our faces were eerily similar now, the black fur saw to that. Only the shapes of our heads were different, and I seemed to hide my fangs a little better than he did. Our "manes" were equally unruly and both had streaks of grey hair sprinkled throughout the mess. Perhaps more than any of that, our eyes radiated the same dark purple hue.

"Well, that's… disappointing. I'm going to miss my green eyes." Our mother's green eyes.

"I'm not thrilled about losing my blue either," Our father's blue, also gone, "But we press on, right?" I looked at my new worgen brother, different in so many ways yet somehow his presence still felt the same. It still calmed the fire in my blood.

"That's all we can do."


End file.
